Roommate
by gripsyched
Summary: "You don't understand your roommate, not one bit." Michiruka, slight fluff and slight AU.


Roommate

Pairing: Haruka Tenou and Michiru Kaiou

AN: oh my god I just wrote this out I am so ashamed of myself but I liked it ahhhhh :D -fangirls silently- I think this is a little AU? It doesn't revolve around the whole senshi thing, that is. ONE SHOT :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or anything I am a potato thank you

* * *

You don't understand your roommate, not one bit.

Sure, you've been called an enigma, a riddle and a _tease, even._ But the real mystery is sitting silently at her desk- an arm slung over the back of her chair, a leg propped up, and a hand digging through her notes. She is the wind- there are no similes or metaphors involved, because that is the truth- _she is the wind._

She wears jeans when she feels like it, and skirts when she looks like it. But really, _you_ think she looks good in anything. She doesn't fuss over her clothing (like _you_ do), but you've come to realise that _everything _she does is dependent on her mood.

First statement: Haruka Tenou is the wind.

Second statement: The wind is unpredictable (wild, chilling, gentle- a paradox).

Final Conclusion: As Haruka Tenou is the wind, she is unpredictable (by _logical_ reasoning).

But you've come to realise that the only constant in her life is coffee. She loves coffee. To be frank, 'love' is a little of an understatement. Before her daily dose of coffee, any initiation of interaction would be considered a one-way ticket to hell. You've learned that the hard way, which left you quite breathless as she pinned you to the wall and gave you a stony one-word reply. (You've quite enjoyed the risk you took, though you had to submerge yourself into the bath for an hour longer.) She doesn't understand your need for tea, but you only smile and shrug (her exact reply to you when you first asked about the coffee addiction).

You brush your hand through your sea-green locks, and stifle a chuckle at how endearing she looks right now. The intimidating and handsome trek-and-field star is now (just within reach) pouting cutely at her Modern Japanese notes. You notice that it is four, and you wonder why she isn't sprinting along those little circles of the track.

(She tells you that running and being alongside the wind- _being the wind-_ is surprisingly liberating and therapeutic. While you watch her- a golden mop of hair trailing past the markers- through the windows, with a paintbrush in hand, you can't help but sense the irony of it all. She's just running in circles, forever trapped in that merry-go-round of a race track. Going nowhere, still trapped under the illusion of actually _escaping_. You wonder if that's an appropriate analogy for the mundane lives everyone works their way through.)

(But you refuse to tell her what you think, because you aren't quite sure if you're prepared to be pinned against the wall- however thrilling that might be- and faced with those intense, killing eyes.)

(So you laugh- a perfectly reasonable and logical answer.)

You glance at the numbers of your clock (and groan as you realise that it is almost five, and your Math paper is left blank)- no, _really_. It is almost five, and you wonder why she isn't sprinting along those little circles of the track. You muse a little, shamelessly doodling on the Math paper- perhaps she has come to realise that it is impossible to flee from whatever-it-is-that-she's-running-away-from. Which brings you to your next point.

(Honestly, if you placed as much focus on your Math paper…)

She is… brave. Or not brave. The right word to use might be… Outspoken. Taunting. Mocking. Challenging. You shrug at each of the words. There is no _right_ word to use when it comes to Haruka Tenou. Not really, no. She's just… Haruka. Confrontations seem to be her specialty- it is simply ridiculous to picture her, cowering in fear; not with those fearless green eyes, not with that astoundingly tall height! But perhaps she _is_ a coward. Using her physical appearance to taunt and frighten her victim(s) away, building barriers to shut herself in. You nibble on your lower lip. She's always so straightforward and truthful to her feelings, but really, you doubt that she understands anything she feels. Like running- just go with the flow, following the wind's flow.

_(Really, Michiru, you're lowering yourself to insult the sport itself? How… immature.)_

(Swimming sounds more strategic to you.)

You sigh, and start to erase the doodlings from your paper. You wonder if your Math teacher has already noticed the creases and subdued strokes of angular sketches on your papers. The sound of a chair scraping past the marble tiles makes you jump. You pretend not to notice, and instead concentrate on your Mathematics.

(It's a lost cause, honestly.)

"You want to know." She doesn't ask it- she never questions, only states.

(You think it's arrogant, really- but some part of you can't help but appreciate that level of confidence.)

"Ara?" You mumble out your catchphrase.

"You want to know why I'm not out there running."

"What," you begin to say, turning around to face her. "Makes you think that?"

"You really want to know, huh."

You laugh, because that's the only appropriate response to everything awkward she says.

She reaches you in a few strides, pulls you up, and kisses you. It is a… chaste kiss. Her hand releases your wrist, and chooses to interlock your fingers together. Her lips are warm, and smooth- (Really, those romance novels are exaggerated.) She releases you a moment too soon, and your arms are still hanging limply by your side. The whole… situation is pretty hilarious.

You're not quite sure of what to do- and the years of social etiquette lessons (your parents have invested in) are rather _against_ you laughing, yet again. Instead, you choose to follow the clichés in those romance novels (that have already failed you once), asking,

"Why?"

She shrugs- a Haruka-esque reply. "I just felt like… _you._"

You can't help but let loose a giggle, and pull her in for another kiss. This time, you can safely say that you've understood what those romance novels were talking about.

You really don't understand your roommate, but maybe that's okay.

* * *

Reviews will be appreciated! :D


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